Pern's Prodigy
by Adica Finch
Summary: There is a remarkable new boy at the Harper Hall, but what's his story? All the normal teenage drama, plus some twists! first fic. I have formatted it correctly now, so enjoy!
1. Chapter 1 A New Apprentice

**CHAPTER ONE**

"Jameth."

"What is it now, Rosa?" Rosa cringed at the Mastersingers tone, but couldn't blame him for being annoyed. This was the third time today she'd paid him a visit.

She held up her hands defensively. "Hey, this time I have a good reason." The last two times had simply been to sneak away from a very annoying, and _persistent, _suitor.

He rolled his eyes. "You considered playing hide-and-seek a reason before, so I trust you'll forgive me for being a bit skeptical about the validity of this 'reason'". He said dryly, as he turned back to the papers he was grading.

Rosa pouted at him. "You sure are a lot like a boring old man for being only twenty-two."

He glared at her. "I think you're getting boring and responsible mixed up." He pointedly ignored her for the next few minutes, taking pleasure in her increasing agitation. Then the Mastersinger sighed . . . and abruptly grinned. "All right, now that I've gotten you into a suitable huff, you can tell me what it is this time." He held up a hand to forestall the stream of words that were about to come tumbling out of his lovely nieces mouth. "Although, I _do not _want to hear you go on about another boy. I might be your uncle, but I seriously don't understand why you tell ME all your boy troubles when you've a whole gaggle of girlfriends dying for gossip." He raised an eyebrow as she crossed her arms and glared at him. "Well? Are you going to tell me or not?"

Rosa groaned and rolled her eyes. "I suppose, now that you've allowed me to get a breath out. I do wish I had your patience, though, so that I could make YOU wait too. Although, I suppose it wouldn't work because you're impossible to annoy." She sighed in a dramatic woebegone fashion, saw that it had no effect on her uncle, and plowed right on with her news. "We-ell," she said with a grin as Jameth began to drum his fingers, "we've a new apprentice."

Jameth raised his eyebrows. "Is that all?" He said in exasperation.

"Of course not!" Rosa exclaimed in indignation. "Do you think I would waste my beloved uncles precious time for something as trivial as that? I assure you that this is a choice bit of gossip. The new young Skipper is fixed to be a musical prodigy. Only thirteen, and Masterharper Karo has already placed him with the third year apprentices. Which makes this gossip even more worthwhile, considering it relates directly to you, being the teacher of the third and fourth years." She sighed. "He's _so_ handsome too! Too bad he's so young..."

"Yes, tragic. One less boy for you to leave with a broken heart."

Rosa simpered at him. "I can't help it that I'm gorgeous." She bounced over to him to plant a kiss on his cheek. "I'll leave you to your work. Love you."

"Love you, too." He mumbled.

"Ha! You said it back!" Rosa always considered it a personal triumph when she got her terribly reserved uncle to say 'I love you' back.

He grinned. "Yeah, yeah, get out of here, you little heathen." he said with the wave of a hand.

"I'm already gone!" She said as she closed the door behind her. He chuckled at her bubbliness, and then groaned when she popped her head back in the door not 10 seconds later.

"AND I always tell you about my boy troubles because you have no contact with the outside world! I do everything for a reason, Uncle," she said with a firm nod of the head. "Alright, now I'm _really _going, I've got a class to catch!" She blew him a kiss and was gone.

Jameth had to admit, his niece had a way of rousing his curiosity. He _could_ wait until the end of the day, when the boy would have his class . . . but lunch time was in just five minutes, and, after all, he should know what to expect from the lad. It never did any good to allow a new student to get the upper hand. Jameth was the youngest teaching Master in the hall. His students tended to get the idea that his age made him and inexperienced pushover. The Mastersinger grinned at the thought. Many students had learned to regret that misplaced assessment.

He walked into the dining hall, surreptitiously looking for a group of students that would indicate a new 'curiosity', or, in other words, Apprentice Skipper. Off to his right there was a group of young men, it looked promising. At first. He had to stifle a laugh as he realized they were surrounding his slender, brown haired, green-eyed niece.

He sat down in a spot at the Masters table on the raised dais, and surveyed the scene from above. Ah. There, sitting on a bench in the Third years section, elbows propped up behind him on the table, and feet on the bench of the table next to his, was the already-popular Skipper. It was unsurprising that he was surrounded by a large group of students, many of them young girls. The new Apprentice was a lean, tan skinned boy, with blue-black hair cut unusually short (above ear level) and a very charming smile.

_Well_, Jameth thought, _it looks like another ne'er do well, spoiled for his good looks, and then_ _spoiled again for his musical abilities._ _If he thinks he's getting special treatment in_ my _class,_ _then he's got another thing coming. _With his evaluation of the boy complete, he turned his attention to his meal, only glancing at the lad every now and then throughout the rest of lunch.

Jameth looked up to a tentative knock on his door, and was surprised to be looking at his new student. "I thought that I would come early, so that we could be introduced, and not have to disturb class." Skipper strode confidently into the room and held out his hand to his new teacher. Jameth shook it firmly, unwilling to be shown up by this lads confidence. He was surprised to feel callouses on the boys hand. _So, he is used to hard work_, Jameth thought, _and he has manners._ _Probably all to disguise the viper he is underneath. _He'd had _plenty_ of experience with students like this in the past, sweet on the outside and as rotten on the inside as an egg left out in the sun for 3 weeks and then thrown into a pile of dung.

"I'm Mastersinger Jameth..."

"The youngest teaching Master in the Hall, most likely making you one of the toughest because you are certainly underestimated by your students, with a reputation for being reserved, most likely due to the fact that although you are a very accomplished man, you are still uncertain in many areas because you feel you are hindered by your youth. Yet it is well known that you are a fair Master, with a decent sense of humor, which is probably due mostly to your charming niece, who is well known for her free spirited attitude."

Jameth's hand went limp in the boys as his mouth fell open. They'd never even met, and yet somehow this young man had interpreted one of his greatest faults, one that he was loath to acknowledge he had, and give a very accurate account of his personality. He shook his head in wonder, and let a scowl take over his face. "Go take your seat," he said in response to his to being taken so easily by surprise.

Skipper grinned at him, saying, "Sorry if I offended you, but I like to know what to expect from new people. I don't want them to think they can get the upper hand on me because I'm so young." He winked at Jameth and then took a seat towards the back of the room.

The rest of the class began filing in, four 4th years and five 3rd years. Rosa claimed the coveted seat next to Skipper, and earned herself a few glares that would have withered flowers. The fact that she was four years older than the boy didn't stop her from practicing her flirting, which she began as soon as her bottom was planted in her chair.

_Alright, so you feel like you've been hit in the head with an anvil, it's no reason to postpone your teaching_, he thought to himself in annoyance. With that firm thought propelling him, he began going over a new song with his pupils; and was promptly dumbstruck again. The lad sung like an angel, with a well developed, and well-trained baritone. He'd been told the boy was good, and indeed he was. The Mastersinger chuckled at the other Masters exaggerations of Skipper's voice. While Skipper's voice was good, it still needed some work. Jameth thought that with some training and dedication on Skipper's part, that this voice could develop into one of the best to ever come out of the Hall. He would have to find his trainer and commend him for his teaching skills!

Jameth managed to have the students get through the song three times before the end of class, which he considered an accomplishment. He was usually lucky to get in two. "Apprentice Skipper, could I have a moment with you before you leave?"

"Certainly, Mastersinger Jameth."

Skipper was unsurprised when he was asked to stay after class. He had been warned ahead of time that the Mastersinger would be in awe of his voice, and would likely want to take him on for personal training. He'd been especially eager for this class all day. He enjoyed playing instruments, and took a real pleasure out of making them, but singing was his passion. So, having been forewarned of this likely promotion, he strode once again with confidence towards this most important of Masters.

"You've a decent voice, Skipper." _Decent?_ Skipper thought dejectedly, _I thought I'd_ _impressed him_, _I've never sung so well in my life_. "I would like to take you on for personal training, to bring it up to the best it can be. What do you say?"

Skipper swallowed back the lump of disappointment and managed to weakly answer in the affirmative, and then promptly flee to his own quarters.

Jameth frowned as he watched the door close behind his young prodigy. _I thought he'd be_ _flattered by such an offer! I downplayed it just enough not to give him a big head, and he leaves almost in tears! I'm the most renown Mastersinger in the land, he should have been pleased! _The fact that he'd been hoping to bring a smile to the boys face didn't escape him, and he left his classroom with a feeling of disappointment that mirrored his young pupils.


	2. Chapter 2 The Initiation

**CHAPTER TWO**

Skipper lay flat on his bed staring at the ceiling. It was a very comfortable bed, complete with sheets and pillows. He had more luxury in that little bed than he'd had in his whole life. He shook his head to keep it from going in that direction. He was through with his old life. It was dead to him now.

The young Apprentice began to concentrate more on his new life, and its myriad of possibilities._ I've already made more friends than there were people in my whole village, and impressed all my Masters. Well,_ he corrected himself, _almost all of them._ He frowned at the thought of Mastersinger Jameth. What a stiff! Every other Master had praised him for his abilities, exclaiming over his skill and his training. He didn't intend to get a big head over this, but it was nice to get credit when credit was due. He was _good_, it was as simple as that.

After thinking about it for a minute, he began to laugh. _Of course! Mastersinger Jameth_ had _been just as impressed with my singing as the other Masters, I saw it!_ _He didn't know that I'm not the type to become a conceited, pompous ass! He purposely didn't make a big deal over my skills so as not to make me think too highly of myself. That's it! I wouldn't be surprised if he kept from saying things so as not to lower the other students self esteem either; he seems to take those kinds of things into consideration._

He grinned up at the ceiling, and decided that he would go down to dinner after all. He didn't want to disappoint anyone. After all, there would be plenty of places waiting for him.

He wasn't wrong. When he entered the meal hall, at least three tables had people waving him over. He never got a chance to pick, though, because he was promptly swept away by a young woman he recognized as Rosa.

Rosa smiled up at him. "I thought I'd spare you the trouble of having to choose for yourself. I'm the best company you can get, anyway." She said with a laugh, and a theatrical flick of her hair.

"Considering I haven't even been here a day, I'll have to take your word for it." He said with a grin. She had an infectious attitude, totally at odds with her conceited demeanor. Rosa managed to make a joke out of her popularity in such a way that made her very likeable indeed.

She laughed. "You should, it's as good as gold." With a firm nod of her head, she shoved him down onto a bench, and began introducing him to her 'people', as she called them. They were a ragtag group of what _seemed_ misfits; except they all fit together. A group of people that seemed to have nothing in common, and that seemed to ultimately tie them together.

Rosa pointed to a skinny blonde girl with lovely brown eyes. "That's Ellie. She grew up here at the hall. Her parents are both Journeymen, away on assignment right now." Ellie smiled at him, and then laughed at something one of the boys said. Skipper grinned when he heard her laugh; she, well, there was only one word for it, _snorted_ when she laughed.

Rosa smacked the boy that had made the joke against the back of his head. He didn't even comment, which led Skipper to assume that this was a common occurrence. "This is Isaiah, but we just call him Issie." Issie had wavy blonde hair and bright green eyes, and a very _unique_ sense of humor, which Skipper noticed immediately. Issie waved his hands while making some weird noises, and everyone laughed. He had to admit, it was a bit comical. "Issie's from a fishing village up north, near Benden." Skipper nodded, and Rosa turned to the next group member.

"That's Looey (short for Louise). She's our little princess." Rosa leaned over to whisper in Skipper's ear. "She's spoiled, and totally dependant on others, but, in the end, she has a heart of gold. And a good sense of humor! Don't let her superior attitude put you off. It's just . . . well, _habit._ You see, she's the eldest daughter of the Lord Holder of Fort." Skipper did see. You simply can't set aside such good breading. The fact that she was so easily accepting of this group spoke a great deal of her character, and Skipper decided that he could like her. The very tall, brown eyed, brown haired, tan skinned noble turned to him and grinned. Then began an animated conversation with Ellie about the latest fashions, something they both seemed very passionate about.

Rosa threw a bit of her bread at the boy across from her to get his attention. "This is my 'twin'," she put emphasis on the word twin, to show Skipper that she didn't mean it literally, "Koby. He's a Lord Holders get too. The youngest son, though, so he's not as spoiled as our Looey." That earned her a laughing punch from the young noblewoman. "He got here 'bout the same time I did. We rode in together, actually." Koby was an altogether striking young man. Stormy gray blue eyes, coupled with an outrageous hairstyle (a shaved head except for one strip of spiked hair going from his forehead to the back of his neck) made him a very unforgettable acquaintance. Koby smiled at him and then applied himself to his meal.

Rosa leaned in to whisper in Skipper's ear again. "That's Tally..."

The auburn haired, hazel eyed girl at the end of the table looked up from her book at the sound of her name. "What? What's this about Tally?"

Rosa laughed. "Nothing, Tal, I'm just introducing you to the new Apprentice."

Tally peered at Skipper from above the rim of her glasses, shrugged, mumbled something about not making her sound bad, and turned back to her book.

"As you can see, Tally is quite the scholar. She could probably tell you the history of every harper ever to pass through this Hall. She's from a small hold in Ruatha. Don't let her bookish looks fool ya, though. I assure you that she could wipe the floor with you, and outride you on any runnerbeast." Rosa nodded firmly (something that seemed to be a bit of a habit) and turned to the last member of the group.

"And here is our jock." The handsome brown haired, bright blue eyed boy turned to Skipper and held out a hand.

"Hey, I'm Grant." Skipper shook the offered hand, instantly comfortable because of the lads confidence and easy-going manner. "And Rosa is stereotyping me." He mock-glared at Rosa, who simpered at him.

"Well, he _is_ a jock. But that's not _all_ he is. He's got quite a good head on those shoulders." Rosa grinned at him while patting his cheek. Grant caught the hand and kissed it in a gallant gesture, causing Rosa to blush.

Grant turned back to Skipper and grinned. "I'm from Benden Weyr. Yes, I'm a weryling," he said to Skippers look of astonishment, "but the dragon life just wasn't for me. I'm much more comfortable with a harp than a dragon any day." The weryling looked at Skippers plate with a look of horror. "You've got no food!" He began purposefully loading up Skippers plate, who was too busy absorbing all the details about his new group of friends to protest.

_I rather think I'm going to like it here. _He looked around the table, quizzing himself on names and faces in between bites. So, we've got two Lord Holders children, one minor, one peasant, one Hall raised student, and a weryling. It really was an altogether unorthodox group. Once he was satisfied that he had all the names and faces matched, he began launching himself into conversations, starting with Koby and his unusual hairstyle. He was accepted as part of the group without causing a ripple. Skipper felt perfectly comfortable laughing with everyone else when Looey had to ask Rosa to prepare her baked potato; apparently Looey's grandfather had always done it for her.

Skipper was introduced to his room mates when he returned to his dorm room. They were all a likeable lot, eager to introduce themselves and trade information with Skipper about their lives. He was pleased to see that Issie was a Third Year and shared the room with him.

"So, you like it here?" Issie asked as they settled down for bed.

"Yeah. I really do. I think things are really going to work out for me here." Skipper replied earnestly.

"That's good. You homesick yet?"

"No," Skipper whispered, "I won't be missing home."

"Huh. Lucky. I would love to have been as tough as you on my first day here. I was crying myself to sleep for days." Issie chuckled, "I was a lot younger though."

Skipper smiled up at the ceiling and rolled over onto his side, too exhausted to talk anymore.

Skipper woke up with a jolt. "What?" he mumbled. He was suddenly freezing. When he sat up, he realized it was because he was soaking wet. "What the..." he said in confusion. He shook his head a little to clear it. Realization blinded him when someone lit a candle and held it so close to his face that he couldn't see. Skipper sprang out of bed and bowed his head. "I'm awake, master," he managed to say through chattering teeth.

Someone chuckled and pulled the light back, revealing a circle of boys surrounding Skipper and his bed. "Nah, Skip, we're only Apprentices." The boys all laughed at the look of bewilderment on their new roommate's face. "We usually just do this for First Years, but seeing as how you got skipped up, we've decided to make an exception." Issie and another boy draped an arm across Skipper's shoulder and began directing him out of the dorm room. "You ready for your initiation?" Issie said with a grin.

"Do I really have a choice?" Skipper groaned.

"Nope." Issie said wickedly. "Thanks for cooperating."

"Yeah, don't mention it." Skipper growled. They began directing him down the halls, towards the other end of the building. Unable to wake himself up, Skipper stumbled numerous times on the cold stone, to the amusement of the other boys. Issie had to constantly shush the boys. They couldn't seem to stop snickering and whispering to each other.

They at last ended their trek in front of a closed door, which silenced the boys murmurings. "First stop, girls room" Skipper knew better than to ask why they were here, and so just went along with them in silence.

The door opened to reveal a room brightly lit with candles, and a group of girls in their night clothes. Rosa pushed her way to the front and took Skipper's hand. "Thank you boys, we'll deliver him to you once we're finished." That earned a few good natured protests of "why can't we stay?" and a few pouting faces. Rosa laughed and ushered them out of the room. "No boys aloud, you know that!"

"Skipper's a boy!" Issie protested.

Rosa grinned at him. "He won't be when we're finished with him," she commented cryptically. Now Skipper was beginning to get worried.

"Rosa . . . what are you going to do to me?" He asked as he's eyes darted from one grinning face to another.

"Have a seat, and see," she said. He sat gingerly on the edge of a bed, and watched in horror as the girls began pulling things out of little boxes. Some of it he recognized as face makeup. He gulped when Tally walked towards him holding a tube of lipstick.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Ladies," he said with his most disarming smile, "we all know that this really isn't necessary. Really, there are other ways to have fun. You wouldn't want to waste your expensive makeup on me."

Tally smiled down at him, and began applying the lipstick. "Thanks for your concern, love, but I assure you that we don't mind." She grinned. "Only the best would do for our Skip."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, thanks. I really appreciate it." He smacked his lips together as he crossed his arms and glared. "I just hope you do it all evenly and don't smear anything," he said as he batted his lashes at them. The girls all giggled and began applying themselves with much more enthusiasm. Skipper sat, resigned to the situation, as the girls did what they would with him. The whole process was going along quite speedily until the girls began arguing about which eyeshadow they should use on him.

Getting exasperated with their bickering, Skipper got up and worked his way to the center of the girls, and the argument. "Lemme see what my options are." Tally handed him a powder blue shade and Rosa handed him a light brown color. "Hmm," he said thoughtfully. "The powder blue is quite pretty," he said as he held them both up to his eyes in the mirror, "but I think I'll have to go with the light brown. Seeing as how my eyes are violet, it'll bring out the color better." Rosa grinned triumphantly, while Tally shrugged and took the blue back.

Skipper returned to his seat, and closed his eyes when told, trying to keep them still while Rosa applied the powder. "There," she said with finality, "that ought to do it." The girls all crowded around him and agreed that they were satisfied.

At just that moment, Ellie and Looey slipped into the room. "We got it," they said with huge grins. "Where is he?" Rosa stepped aside to allow them a view of Skipper. They both stared at him a moment and then burst out laughing.

"Why, Skip," Looey said, "I hardly recognized you. You look so pretty." She giggled again when Skipper glared at her.

"I'm glad you think so. I guess I should be happy that I look good for my initiation."

Ellie grinned as she came up to him. "You're not finished yet." She held up a ruffled pink dress.

Skipper looked frantically for a way to escape. Finding none, he backed up on the bed until he hit the wall. "Now that is truly unnecessary. Really. I'm sure I will rip it. I'll step on the bottom of it. You don't want me ruining such a fine garment..."

With a flip of her hand Looey dismissed his protests. "I'll just buy a new one. No matter. Besides," she said with a wicked grin, "you won't step on its bottom, because you have these to boost you up!" She held up a pair of deformed shoes.

"What," Skipper said weakly, "are those?"

"Shoes, of course." Ellie rolled her eyes like it should have been obvious.

"I can't walk in those things! I don't even know how to put them on!" He eyed the 'shoes', a pair of _things_ with far to many straps for their own good and abnormally large heals, with a rising sense of dread.

"We'll do it for you, silly. Now, go put on the dress." Ellie shoved the dress into Skippers arms and pointed to the door where the girls stored various bits of property. He sighed in resignation and took the dress and himself to the storage space. He undressed and pulled the frilly dress over his head, grumbling the whole time about the peculiarities of 'women'. Skipper was tall for his age, but Looey was no midget herself. The noblewoman was the tallest out of all the girls, so the dress was nearly a perfect fit.

When he emerged from the closest, he was greeted by a gaggle of girls and a roar of laughter. "Skip!" Ellie said breathlessly, "the boys are all gonna fall in love with you!" Her joke caused her to go into another bout of her snorting laughter. Skipper growled and plopped down onto the nearest bed, holding out his feet.

"Put the shoes on, now. The outfit isn't complete without them." Looey came over and strapped them on, giggling the whole time. He watched with perplexity as she wove the straps in and out of buckles, crossing them behind his heels, over his ankles, and across his toes. She pulled him to his feet when she was finished, and he immediately fell back to the bed. "Yup," he said, "I told you. I can't even stand in these ridiculous things, forget about walking!"

"Nonsense," Looey said, "you'll get the hang of it. Now get up." Muttering curses under his breath, he once again rose to his feet, more carefully this time. The girls pronounced that they were pleased with his appearance, and ushered him out into the hall.

"Back to the boys," Rosa said ominously, "for phase two."

When they arrived at the boys dorm room, Rosa insisted on going in first, so that she could 'properly present' him. The door opened almost immediately after she knocked. She was greeted by the same group of boys that had delivered Skipper to her, plus Grant and Koby. "Gentlemen," she said in a mockingly formal tone, "may I present to you the Lady Skip?" Rosa and the other girls stepped aside to revel Skipper, standing behind them in complete mortification. The boys erupted into a cacophony of laughter, causing Skipper's face to turn a deep red.

With a growl and a glare, he decided that he wouldn't let them get the best of him. It was his embarrassment that was fueling their laughter, why not beat them at their own game? He held up his chin and strutted into the room, the boys parting to make an aisle for him to walk down. His walk was completed with a little hip shaking and a dramatic twirl at the end that flared out his skirts. Skipper wiped imaginary dust off his shoulders as everyone stared at him. "The girls did do quite a lovely job, didn't they?" he said. It was just the thing to break the stunned silence.

"Well!" Grant said with a huge grin, "I've never seen one of the boys take it so well! You're a real sport Skip!" The boys all agreed, grinning and laughing all around the room.

"I think he's beat us at our own game!" Rosa exclaimed from the doorway.

Skipper rolled his eyes. "No, I just know how to make the best out of any situation. I wouldn't have won if I fought back, would I?" Everyone shook their heads. Skipper shrugged. "See? It's just a matter of knowing when fighting back is a lost cause." He grinned at them all, and raised his eyebrows. "Now, shall we get back to my night of torture?"

"Yes! Of course. Ladies, you ought go take your seats, he'll be ready shortly." Grant said as he began ushering the girls out of the room. Grinning and giggling, the girls began heading back down the hall, leaving Skipper with a room full of boys that suddenly looked very menacing.

With a wicked gleam in his eye Grant pushed Skipper onto one of the beds. Koby and Issie came to stand on either side of him, effectively flanking Skipper and blocking any way of escape. The three of them standing above him caused the phrase 'resistance is futile' to pop into his head. He couldn't agree more. When Koby extracted a razor from his pocket Skipper knew that he was in trouble. With his eyes nearly popping out of his head, Skipper began using his most effective weapon. His tongue. "Did you know that in my home girls go crazy for keils?" The three boys stopped their advance towards him. Why they all three were needed for this, he didn't know. _Probably to hold me down_, he thought wryly.

"What?" Koby snapped in frustration.

Skipper nodded eagerly. "Keils, I'm telling you, the girls go ga-ga for them."

Grant cocked his head to one side, asking him in perplexity, "what are keils?"

"Yeah," Issie put in, "what the flip are you talking about?"

"Well," Skipper said, hiding the gleeful tone in his words, "keils are hair ornaments." All three wrinkled their brows.

"Would you care to elaborate?" Grant asked with a wave of his hands.

"Certainly. You see, I thought everyone knew what keils were." The boys shook their heads, and Skipper nodded. "Apparently not." He grinned, "Believe me, you will be thanking me for this bit of information."

"Considering that you've failed to enlighten us on what you are talking about, I doubt it." Grant said with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course, of course. Excuse me. Now, where was I? Right. Keils are hair ornaments." The boys all nodded, beginning to get annoyed with Skipper's repetitive explanation. "But I already said that, didn't I?"

"Yes," Koby growled.

Skipper put his hands out, as if to placate them. "Forgive me, I tend to get a little side tracked." That, of course, was a total lie. Anyone who really knew Skipper knew that he did everything for a reason. Fortunately, he'd hit on these boys (any boys, really) weak spot. Girls, and their constant desperation to please and impress them. "Keils are strings that the girls weave through their hair." He bit his lip with a frown. "There a bit hard to explain." He rubbed the back of his neck, and, after the appropriate amount of time to look perplexed, brightened with a grin. "I know! Do any of you have any string? Colorful string, preferably."

Reluctantly, Issie said that he did. The other boys all stared at him with raised eyebrows and a few snickers. "Yeah, so?" he said with a shrug. "My sisters and mother made me learn how to sow. They got tired of always patching up my things. Growing up with a house full of women will do that to you." He went to the trunk at the end of his bed and opened up a little box. In it were needle and spools of thread. He picked up a red and gold one, tossing each to Skipper.

"Thanks," Skipper said as he caught them. "I didn't see any of these when I went through the market on my way in, so I'll just show you." He cut of two strings of the red and one of the gold, and began weaving them together. He worked in silence for the first few minutes, his nimble fingers quickly weaving the thread into a tight braid. "Now," he said, "these are the most simple kind. The more fashionable ones have crystal beads or seashells woven in with the string." He finished it off with a knot and held it up for the boys to see. They eyed it suspiciously.

"The girls really like those things?" Grant said skeptically. Skipper nodded enthusiastically. Koby took it out of his hand and eyed it with intense scrutiny.

"How do they get it in their hair?" Issie asked curiously.

Skipper took the keil back, and held it up again. "See here?" he pointed to the end with the knot, where two threads of the red were hanging down. "I left just enough of the thread hanging that they can tie it onto a lock of their hair."

"Oh! I suppose they would be...fun." Koby said thoughtfully.

"Yeah," Grant agreed, "I can think of quite a few girls right now that would love these things."

"Grab some more string and I'll show ya'll how to make 'em." Issie went back to his trunk and began handing out the spools of thread. Skipper arranged them in a circle around him, and began explaining what to do.

Nearly an hour later, with a few successful and partially made keils in the middle, and plenty more on the way, Rosa came stomping into the room. Hands on her hips, scowl on her face, and standing just inside the doorway, she began yelling. "What, may I ask, is taking so long!" She clenched her teeth together, and, in a mocking tone, imitated Grant's voice. "'You ladies ought to go find your seats, Skipper will be along shortly.' Ha! You know how long I've been sitting out there? Give me one reason why I shouldn't just..." she glared furiously at Koby when he cut her off.

"Rosa, settle down..." his mouth snapped shut when her glare turned murderous.

"I _hate_ it when people tell me to settle down. I am not some five year old child." She crossed her arms over her chest and began tapping her foot. It was clear that she was going to wait for them to come forward with an excuse.

"Um, we didn't exactly get around to our part of it." Issie said meekly. He closed his eyes and covered his face, in a mock attempt to ward off a blow from Rosa, who merely raised an eyebrow.

"Fine. Tough. It's time for the show." She held out a hand to Skipper. Koby jumped up before Skipper could grab it.

"Wait a minute! We still have time."

"No, you don't"

"Yes, we do. Rosa, come on."

"It's your own fault for not being on top of things." She was going to be stubborn.

"Oh, like you've never been distracted before."

She shrugged. "Sure I have, I just allow it to happen at more appropriate times."

"Oh, _please._ As if you can control it."

"Obviously I can, considering it's never interfered with my activities."

"Um..." Skipper attempted to interject. Unfortunately, their voices began to rise, and he was drowned out.

"Geez, Rosa! You're acting like Jameth!" Grant said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She exploded.

"It means," Issie said, "that you're acting like a stiff."

Skipper couldn't help but think that girls were lucky to have such high voices. Rosa was greatly outnumbered, yet somehow her suddenly shrill voice seemed a formidable foe. "A stiff! I'll have you know that neither of us are stiffs! You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Hey, guys..." Skipper was once again cut off. He was gonna have to do _something_, soon, because this was turning into a real problem, and their fighting was _not_ helping.

"It doesn't matter if you are or not," Koby growled, "you're acting like one."

"You've provoked me into it."

"What, it's our fault that you overreact over _everything_?"

"So, I'm overreacting, huh?" her voice suddenly became very calm, and she smiled sweetly at them. "May I please have Skipper?"

"No," three voices said at once.

She narrowed her eyes, clenched her fists, and visibly gritted her teeth. "Yes," she hissed.

"Not until we get to do our part." Grant was quite firm.

"Hmm, lemme think about that." Rosa cocked her head to the side, and a few seconds later revealed her musings. "Thought about it," and with that, began wading through the crowd towards Skipper. She grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet.

"I don't think so!" Issie yelled, grabbing Skipper's other arm. This was not good, Skipper thought helplessly.

"Rosa..." Skipper was stopped short when everyone began yelling at once.

"Hey..." a rough jerk to his right ended that one. Something bad was about to happen. He knew he had to get their attention, _now._ "HEY!" he yelled. Everyone stopped dead and looked at him. They seemed to have forgotten that he was the one they were fighting over. They dismissed him easily, and began to start up the fight again. "Shut up!" he yelled, "I have _got_ to go to the bathroom." The group of teens all stared at him, uncomprehending. "Now," he said, pointedly looking at the two holding his arms. They dropped them as if they'd become hot coals.

Skipper held his hands to his stomach and began jumping from foot to foot, which was not easy in heels, in an attempt to hold it in. "Come on," he whined pitifully, "I don't remember where it's at!" Everyone visibly relaxed, and a few chuckled.

"Fine," Grant said, "I'll show him where it's at, and then I'll take him to you, Rosa. Happy?"

"Quite," she said pleasantly.

Skipper and Grant trudged their way down the hall in silence. Grant was sullen and angry, _about not being able to commence with 'phase two', _Skipper assumed. Skipper wasn't even going to attempt conversation with the older boy. After all, it was _his_ fault that they didn't get to do their part of the initiation. So, Skipper kept a safe distance from Grant, kicking a small rock that somehow got into the hall. It was not an easy thing to do in heels. On the third kick, he hit more floor than rock, causing himself to trip and almost fall flat on face. He gave up the rock with a sigh.

After a very long ten minutes of silence, Grant finally threw his hands in the air with a growl. "This is so stupid," he mumbled, "she always gets her way." Skipper wasn't exactly sure if he was supposed to respond to that. Choosing to be prudent, he kept silent. It proved wise because Grant continued on as if he forgot Skipper was there. "I mean, we're friends and all, but that doesn't mean that I'm gonna give her everything she wants." What was Skipper supposed to say to that? This was beginning to sound suspiciously like a lover's quarrel, and he wasn't _about_ to get caught up in one of those. "If I give her what she wants, then she'll be happy. Of course, then she'll become bossy and demanding..."he said thoughtfully, "but if I don't, then she's going to get mad at me. What should I do?"

This was a direct question, Skipper thought in annoyance. He was forced to formulate some kind of answer. "Uh..." it was an impossible task. He was only thirteen! He had no experience with women. Sure, he grew up around them, but that didn't make him some sort of love doctor. "Well..."

"Oh, never mind," Grant snapped with a roll of his eyes, "you're just a dumb kid."

This, naturally, caused Skipper to scowl and become more than a little indignant. "I am not! I am..."

"Just shut up." Grant snapped. "You know what I meant." Skipper didn't know what he meant, but didn't think it wise to say that. He decided not to say anything for the rest of their walk, and gladly kept the scowl on his face.

"We're almost there." Grant said. He had seemingly begun to think the silence had become oppressive. He glanced at Skipper, when the younger boy gave an angry shrug of his shoulders. He was still scowling. With a sigh, Grant apologized. "Look, I didn't mean to be, well, mean. It's just that Rosa drives me crazy sometimes. You were just the closest person to take it out on, ya know? I didn't mean anything by it..." His apology fell flat when he realized Skipper wasn't listening to him. "Well, fine. You can stay mad at me if you want. I guess that I deserve it. Whatever. I'm not gonna fight with you. So good luck winning a one-sided argument."

Skipper glanced at him in annoyance. He felt a smile tugging at his lips. After thinking about it for a minute, he conceded that it was pretty stupid to hold a grudge over nothing. "Yeah, whatever," he agreed with a sigh, "I get it."

Grant broke out into a grin and gave him a comradely slap to the back. "Thanks man. So, are there any girls that have caught _your_ eye?" With that, they began a slightly awkward, but still pleasant enough, discussion on the girls Skipper had met so far. After some debating, they agreed on what each girl's best physical features were. Rosa had the best hair and breasts, Skipper agreed to with some blushing; Tally had the prettiest eyes, Looey the best legs, and Ellie had the best body all around, due to her hourglass shape.

Talking about girls is the best way for any group of men to break tension, and by the end of their trek they were the best of friends again. Somehow when guys blow up at each other, the next minute they are patting each other's backs. Some girls would argue that it's because their brains are too small to be able to hold on to one thought for any period of time, and are simply incapable of formulating acts of revenge.


	3. Chapter 3 Phase Three

Disclaimer: I invented the characters and a few other things here and there, but the world and the positions of various people in said world belong to Anne McCaffery.

Special Note: this is my first fic. Don't eat me.

Another note: sorry to all about the whole deleting and reposting thing. I am computer illiterate, and didn't know how else to fix the format of my story. I figured I'd start over. Sorry for all that I inconvenienced or annoyed, but I saved ALL reviews, so all you out there that took the trouble to read my mediocre work and actually review, I say thank you! And it wasn't a waste of time, because they are all saved, nice and neat, in a folder.

Dedication: This is dedicated to my very dear friend Sydney. Her steadfast friendship and undying enthusiasm towards this project is one of the main things that keeps it going. Although, certain reviews have caused me to get my act together as well.** :-)**

**CHAPTER THREE**

Skipper stood, rather nervously, atop an improvised platform in the courtyard. He held in his hands a completely foreign piece of music, one that he was supposed to sing at the end of a drum roll. The young Apprentice once again glanced at the alien words, trying frantically to learn something he'd been given only ten minutes ago. After skimming the words for what seemed like the millionth time, he glanced up to the windows that his new 'friends' were crowded in. He gulped when he saw that a few more windows had silhouettes looking down at him. Apparently someone had spread the word that the new Apprentice was making a fool of himself.

He glanced up at the sky and noticed that the moon was nearly gone. They must be waiting for sunrise, he thought absently. It would make sense, he thought with a snort, I'll be the perfect wake-up call. He sighed and began shifting his weight from foot to foot. They were beginning to hurt. He reflected that it wasn't so bad that they were making him wait so long, it made him less nervous and more willing to simply get it over with.

The sun was just beginning to come up when the first of the cat calls began hailing him from the windows. "Hey, pretty lady, you wanna come up here and entertain for _me?_" Skipper felt his face heat up, and knew that it must be a startling shade of scarlet. He looked back down at the piece of music in an attempt to block out the rest of the jeering. When he glanced up at the sun again, he realized with a sickening wrench that it was above the horizon. Right on cue, a drum roll sounded. He didn't know where it came from, but another glance at the windows showed that Tally was missing. The boy scowled. He would get her later. He would get them _all_ later. The drum roll exploded through the courtyard, causing Skipper to cringe. If there was anyone still asleep, they were surely awake _now._ When the last of the echoes died, he took a deep breath, and with a shaky voice began singing the words on the paper.

The drum roll forced silence, while Skipper's voice demanded it. He stumbled across the first few lines, missing high notes, but after the first verse his voice became steadily stronger. Thrilled that he had gotten his voice to stop shaking, he threw himself even deeper into the song, forgetting his surroundings. Halfway through the third verse, he was roughly yanked off his stage. He fell into the person that had ended his performance, and was stopped from falling by the man's crushing grip on his arm. It took him a minute to recognize Mastersinger Jameth with his hair down. Skipper swallowed and tried to break from his furious teachers hold.

"Stop squirming," Jameth hissed, voice dangerously low. Still holding Skipper's arm, he began to drag him back into the Hall. Skipper heard more jeering, some shouts of annoyance, and, above it all, the sound of laughter. He felt his face once again go a deep red. It was more than difficult to keep up with the older man, the heels proved to be a great handicap. It didn't help that the Mastersinger was worked up into a good fury and didn't care that he was practically dragging Skipper to their destination.

He didn't stop, or speak, until they entered his classroom and he was able to lock the door. The man was nearly shaking with pent up anger. Skipper gulped, trying to think of what the song was that he had been singing. He couldn't remember if it was anything important. He'd never even heard it before...

"Do you have any idea what you were just singing?" The Mastersinger was visibly clenching his jaw in an attempt to control his temper.

"No," Skipper said nervously, "I've never even heard it before. I didn't think it was that important." Jameth closed his eyes and turned his face up to the ceiling, as if pleading with the gods to give him strength.

"You haven't heard it before because it has been written specifically for the coming Gather. It was to make its debut then. Now it will be forever be embedded in Hall dwellers minds as just another average piece of music. Because of you! Because it was sung by a _child_! You've ruined the whole Gather!" He threw his hands into the air and sank into a chair.

Skipper shifted nervously. He felt terrible, but really didn't know what he was supposed to say. "I'm sorry, sir. It can still be sung at the Gather. Can't it?"

"Yes," Jameth said, voice muffled because his head was now resting on his arms. "It can still be sung. There will be Lords that have not heard it yet. But the surprise will be ruined. The...the magic of it will be taken away because there will be those that have already heard it."

Skipper took a step forward, thinking perhaps a pat on the back would be worth something. He decided against it at the last minute. It might set Jameth off again. "Surely, though, there is another Mastersinger that can sing it better than I?"

"Yes, yes, of course there is," he said with a wave of his hand, "but what's the point? I should just try to work with Master composer Murry on writing a new one." The tone of Jameth's voice made it clear that he thought that route was fruitless.

Skipper remained unsure of what to say. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to leave or start begging forgiveness. Thinking that keeping his mouth shut would serve best, he opted for that. After a few minutes of a very uncomfortable silence, Jameth looked up from where he was resting his head in his arms. "Are you still here?" he demanded, "get out." He pointed furiously at the door. Skipper ran for it without another word.


	4. Chapter 4 I Have My Ways

authors note: sorry that this took so long everyone! school is more than a pain, it's consuming my soul. i was also suffering writers block pretty hard core. but...i figured you guys deserved an update. i hate it when the stories i'm reading aren't updated. so, here it is. enjoy!

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Skipper ran out the door and into his friends. They immediately surrounded him, demanding to know what had transpired behind the locked door. "You're all idiots!" Skipper yelled. Tears were beginning to fill his eyes. He wanted to get out of these damn clothes, go hide in a hole somewhere, and just be _left alone._ Skipper began to furiously elbow his way through the small crowd of his friends, breaking into a run when he was free of them.

Rosa ran after him, catching him when he turned the corner. Damn these heels! He thought. Skipper began to savagely yank them off as Rosa began to babble at him. "Skipper I'm sorry. We're all sorry. We just thought it was a bit of fun. What happened?"

Skipper angrily wiped a hand across his leaking eyes before answering. "I'll tell you what happened. You made me sing the top secret song for the coming Gather. You embarrassed me in front of the whole school. You let me take the blame for the whole thing, even though it's all your fault. And now, I am on the Mastersingers shit list! He was _the only_ Master that I wanted to impress. He is _the only_ Master that can help me accomplish what I want. Fat chance now!"

"Skipper," Rosa whispered, her own eyes beginning to fill with tears now, "I'm so sorry! We can make it up to you. I am Jameth's niece. His _favorite_ niece! He'll listen to me. The others are already in his classroom explaining the whole thing. We're making it clear that it wasn't your fault! We'll take all the blame..." her voice trailed off when she realized that Skipper was shaking his head.

"You didn't hear him Rosa. He yelled at _me, _heard_ me _sing, said that it was _my _voice that would be 'forever embedded in Hall dwellers minds'when they listened to that song." Skipper shrugged. He shoved the shoes into Rosa's hands and began walking back down the hallway. "Just leave me alone." Now Rosa really did begin to cry. What a great way to start off his training at the Hall! All because of us, she thought sadly. She swallowed and walked determinedly to her uncle's classroom.

Their stunt was still being talked about in the Hall a week later. It wasn't every day that you saw Mastersinger Jameth lose control like that. In fact, you simply didn't see him lose control like that. Students whispering in hallways, talking about it at lunch, and looking at any member of the group that passed them with great respect, and even awe.

That was how things still stood a week later, as the group headed for their fifth day of detention. Used to the routine by now, they weren't surprised when they were each assigned another classroom to go to when they entered the detention room. Part of the punishment was that they couldn't bear it together.

They were generally sent to the same Master every time. It was with pleasure that Skipper heard he was with Mastersinger Jameth again. He cracked his knuckles and looked at his friends. "Another day to work myself back into his good graces." He grinned at them all. It had taken a few days for them to become comfortable around one another again. The fact that they had tried to take all the blame for him had helped to soften his anger, and when he overheard Rosa speaking with Jameth about the whole situation, he couldn't help but forgive them. Good friends look out for one another like that, and he wasn't about to lose them.

Skipper began his delinquents walk to Mastersinger Jameth's room. He had been slowly, and successfully, he hoped, chipping away at Jameth. Yesterday he had gotten a grudging smile out of the man. He expected another one today.

Skipper entered the room with a cheerful whistle, and plopped into his usual desk at the front of the classroom. He kept up the cheerful tune, adding the tap of his feet and the drum of his fingers to it. The tune just rolled out of him. Without really thinking about it, he began to turn a simple tune into a complex beat. He was rather pleased with how it sounded. Perhaps Jameth is too, he thought. Before he could look up and check, though, Jameth said, in great annoyance, to please shut up. With a sigh, Skipper sank back down into his chair.

After a few minutes of _silently _drumming his fingers he brightened up. It was a lucky thing, too. He thought that he was about to die of boredom. He pulled a few sheets of paper out of his bag and handed them to the Mastersinger. Jameth frowned as he looked at them. He looked up at Skipper with a raised eyebrow. Skipper looked back at him. After a minute he realized that he was supposed to say something. "Oh! That's the essay you assigned us. There is also an extra credit assignment in there." Jameth frowned and looked at the papers closer.

"This isn't due for a month, and you don't need the extra credit."

"I don't?" Skipper asked innocently. He saw the corners of Jameth's mouth twitch. Yes! Victory! he thought.

"You know very well that you don't." Jameth shook his head, the smile finally spreading across his face. "How do you find the time for all this? Do you just not sleep? Or have you given up a social life?"

Skipper grinned triumphantly. "Actually, my social life is quite healthy, as am I." Jameth raised an eyebrow. Skipper's grin broadened, "I have my ways." The now content boy returned to his desk. Jameth had actually been right on the mark about how Skipper had gotten the work done. He hadn't slept. He felt disinclined to tell the Mastersinger that, though. Somehow he thought it would take away from the mystery of how he had so successfully gotten his work done.


	5. Chapter 5 Loud Breathing and a Brawl

**AUTHORS NOTE: **SO, HERE IS CHAPTER FIVE. HOPEFULLY THERE IS A LITTLE BIT OF SATISFACTORY ACTION FOR YA'LL.

SKIPPER GOT ABOUT 3 WEEKS WORTH OF DETENTION, BY THE WAY, FOR THE LITTLE STUNT HE PULLED (WELL...TECHNICALLY HE WAS FORCED, BUT WHATEVER)

THANKS FOR ALL REVIWS I GOT! I REALLY APPRECIATE THE FEEDBACK, AND TRY TO RESPOND TO EVERYONE

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Day eight of detention was nearly unbearable. Skipper may have made a break through with Jameth, but he was far from redeemed in the man's eyes.

Skipper had spent the first hour furiously writing "I will not sing songs my voice is not fir for" over and over again. Now, nearly driven mad by the boy he was sharing detention with, he threw his quill across the room and covered his ears with his hands.

He did not want to be cruel, for the boy was younger than him, but after, having to endure nearly an hour of listening to the boys nasal breathing it was either go mad or slightly embarrass a peer. Skipper decided that he was far too young to go mad, hence his outburst and need to cover his ears.

Jameth took this in without batting an eyelash (he had returned to the same composed and controlled man all Hall dwellers were used to, much to the disappointment of his students). "May I ask what the problem is, Apprentice Skipper?"

Skipper was now rocking back and forth, hands still over his ears. He knew he was being _perhaps_ a bit too dramatic, but, come on, he had endured without complaint for an hour. The now halfmad boy glanced over at his fellow detentionie before answering. "Do you think I could talk to you about it in your office, sir?", he asked, throwing another pointed glance at the other boy.

The Mastersinger complied, albeit grudgingly. He walked to the back of the room and opened the door to his office, Skipper in tow. Jameth leaned against the back of his desk, crossing his arms, his eyes demanding an explanation from his young pupil.

Skipper took a deep breath before giving the reason for his outburst. For some reason he didn't think the Mastersinger would find it acceptable. "Well, you see, sir, I've got a bit of a problem with Michael-is that his name?-out there." Skipper shifted his feet nervously before continuing. "Ah, he's breathing loud. It's driving me mad." He looked at his teacher defiantly. It _was_ annoying, and he was not going to put up with another minute of it!

Jameth's mouth twitched ever so slightly as he loooked at Skipper. Otherwise he remained as cool as granite. "Let me get this straight," he said calmly, "you threw a quill across the room, disturbed your classmate, and pulled me away from grading my papers because the boy next to you was breathing too loud?" Arms still crossed, he regarded the young man in front of him with a raised eyebrow.

"You don't understand," Skipper pleaded, "it's a nasal wheezing! He's practically snoring while he's wide awake!"

Jameth passed a hand over his face in exasperation, or was it to his a smile? "This is absolutely ridiculous and a total waste of my time," Jameth growled. "You may sit in the back of the room, but I expect a hundred more lines by the end of your detention."

Skipper sighed in relief and nodded, exiting the room ahead of Jameth and started on the prescribed punishment.

When Skipper left Jameth's classroom a little after Michael (due to the fact that his one hundred lines weren't completed at the end of detention and he was forced to finish them) he ran, literally, into a rather tall, scruffy looking boy. "Watch where you're going!" he growled, shoving Skipper off of him and into a wall.

"Ex-cuse me," Skipper said indignantly, "it was an accident."

"You think you can just do whatever you please, and everyone has to just take it. Well you can forget about that," the boy said in disgust.

"I didn't do it on purpose!" Skipper said, feeling rather offended by this strangers accusation.

"Oh, of _course_ not, and I'm just supposed to take your word for it, eh? I don't think so," he snorted and pushed Skipper roughly out of his way as he moved on down the hall

He didn't get very far, though, because Skipper yanked him back by the collar of his shirt. "Hey, I don't know what your problem is," he said, with another shove "but I didn't do nothin', and I'm not gonna let you push me around," he concluded, with another shove for emphasis.

"Who do you think you are?!" the other boy exclaimed in outrage.

"Obviously, you already know that, considering you seem to have me all figured out," Skipper gritted out through clenched teeth.

"You're right, I do know," the older boy started in a singsong voice, "you're everyone's favorite Apprentice. The handsome Skipper, everyone's new best friend, and..." he was silenced by Skipper's fist connecting with his face. He retaliated quicker than Skipper assumed he would, the result being that Skipper couldn't block when a fist came flying at his own face. It collided painfully in the region of his eye, and for a moment he was left dizzy and half blind. Skipper could hear the other boy panting though, and in a mad rush tackled him to the ground.

They rolled around on the ground, neither gaining the advantage, though Skipper caught a few elbows to the ribs, and knew that his own connected satisfactorily with the other boys gut, when a very familiar voice demanded that they break apart.

The two boys got clumsily to their feet, Skipper holding the side of his face, where a black eye was beginning to emerge, and the other Apprentice gingerly fingering his busted lip. They glowered sullenly at Mastersinger Jameth, knowing that they were in for it but neither willing to condemn themselves.

"Do you realize what fools you are making of yourself?" he demanded in that all-too-familiar icy drawl.

Skipper answered hastily, hoping to stem his teachers wrath. "Sir, I was minding my own business when..."

The other Apprentice decided to save his own hide at the same time. "Mastersinger, I was simply walking down the hall when..."

Their words became indecipherable when they began attempting to speak over the other. It quickly escalated into each boy throwing insults at the other, and Jameth losing his patience. "Enough!" he spat out in disgust. "You're display was disgraceful to the Hall. What if we had had visitors?" he demanded. Neither boy answered. They knew they weren't supposed to. "I don't want to hear any of your excuses," he said. "Your behavior was unacceptable. You have a weeks worth of detention with me starting tomorrow."

"But sir," Skipper attempted feebly, "I've already got detention with you for the next week."

The Mastersinger looked at him unsympathetically. "Well, then, I guess we'll have to tack another week onto the end of it, won't we?" He didn't wait for his student's answer, going instead back to his classroom and closing the door firmly behind him.

The other boy didn't wait for a chance to get yelled at again. He stalked back down the hall, with nothing but a smirk at Skipper's misfortune.

Skipper grumbled before heading down the hall in the opposite direction to meet up with the rest of the 'gang'. When he caught up to them, he was met with exclamations of surprise, and Tally's groan of "You _idiot!_ What did you do now?"

"It wasn't my fault!" he said, scandalized. He then recounted the most recent unfortunate event, expecting sympathy and understanding.

"Tally's right. You are an idiot. Why would you let him get to you like that?" Rosa said, rolling her eyes.

"What?! He was mocking me!"

"Sounded to me like he was only jealous." Looey said.

"Jealous? Of what!? What've I got to be jealous of?"

"Your voice. Duh." Ellie said with a laugh.

"My voice isn't that good! That's become pretty obvious since I arrived here."

"Yes, but everyone knows it will be, after hearing you sing that morning." Looey observed.

"So? Who is this guy anyway?"

"How are we supposed to know? Could've been anyone. This _is_ a Hall for musicians." Tally stated, sarcastically.

Skipper glared at him before deciding to describe the other boy. "Well, he was rather tall, with light brown hair, I guess, and he looked like he hadn't shaved in awhile," Skipper shrugged, there wasn't much more to tell.

"Oh, that's Daryn," Rosa said, as though that explained everything. She rolled her eyes before continuing. "He is one of the best voices in the Hall. He pretty much hated you since he heard you singing that one morning."

"But why?" Skipper asked in agitation, "my voice isn't _that_ good!"

"Yes, but anyone who heard it knows it _could_ be." Tally repeated with patience. "I guess he feels threatened?" Tally said absently.

"Well, whatever the reason," Looey said with all the authority of the nobly born, "he's bad news and you should just stay away from him."

"He's not all that bad," Rosa said defensively, "he just worked really hard to get where he is, and doesn't want it to be snatched away by some rookie. No offense, Skip."

"Yes, and suddenly Rosa is an empath," Looey drawled.

"No!" Rosa said in annoyance, "I just don't think it's that hard to see why he's acting like he is."

"Yes, Rosa, we understand. You see what we don't. We're honored to be graced by your insight into the minds of men," Ellie said in a singsong voice, causing Rosa to throw her hands in the air and begin walking on down the corridor.

"We've already had one fight," she called over her shoulder, "no need to go picking another one!" The girls drifted after her, each with a grin on their face.

Once the girls were safely out of the way each of the boys took it in turn to congratulate Skipper. "Did you get any good hits in?" Koby demanded.

"That first punch I hit him in the jaw. Busted his lip right open." Skipper said, feeling quite proud of himself. There were appreciative exclamations from the other boys.

Grant patted him on the back, a huge grin on his face. "Not even here a month, and already our little Skipper is picking fights." Everyone laughed at this. "I see that he got you pretty good, too," Grant continued, looking at Skipper's eye. "You didn't take that from him, did you?"

"Nah," Skipper said, waving his hand as if his aching face was no big deal, "I tackled him right into the ground. Got him some good hits in the gut." The other boys all applauded him, pleased with their friends fighting abilities. They drifted down the hall after that, deciding it would be best to turn in for the night.


	6. Chapter 6 A New Outfit

**DEDICATED TO GINALEE AND SHE WHO SNICKERS AT GRAPES. **You two got me writing again! I hope you enjoy this bit as much as the rest.

NOTE: i don't know if dragonrider's is one word or two seperate words. If anyone else does, I'd love to know!

**CHAPTER SIX**

The anticipation for Fort's coming Gather was like a palpable pressure in the air. Everywhere Skipper went he heard the whispered plans for the coming celebration. Girls and boys alike were buying new clothes, or cleaning their best.

Never having attended a Gather, Skipper remained unaffected by his peers enthusiasm. The most he could get out of it was that a Gather's purpose was for foreign holders to purchase wares from the Gather site, and an excuse for the rich to stuff their faces. Huzzah, he thought, as he reflected on these unsavory details of tomorrow night. Harpers were expected, which, in fact, meant ordered, to perform at these celebrations. The whole thing seemed utterly pointless, and with the Gather suddenly looming above him, he realized that his rejection of it had kept him from preparing for it in any way. Except musically, of course.

Mastersinger Jameth would single-handedly slaughter all of his students if they messed up his presentation. It had been almost three months since the Incident of Skipper's Initiation (as the students now called it), but it had not faded from the Mastersinger's mind. He expected complete cooperation from his pupils. Though Skipper was not a soloist, something he desperately wished he was ready for, he was still expected to sing with the choir. That included not only showing up, but looking presentable. Which meant that he needed clothing, something he was seriously lacking in, having never had the need for more than two outfits before this.

This all put the young Apprentice into an extremely foul mood. He did not want to go, and he certainly didn't want to waste what little marks he had managed to gain on clothing! He wasn't Looey or Ellie, obsessed with the latest fashions, he was a teenage boy, by the Egg! And totally unconcerned with the way he looked. Except for his hair, but that was another matter entirely. The point was, that the insufferable Mastersinger Jameth was out to break the will of every free spirited student under this roof!

He knew he was being unfair. Hanging around Rosa meant coming into constant contact with her kinsman, and when not teaching a class he was actually rather agreeable. But at that moment Skipper was not feeling at all charitable towards him, and in fact wished something would happen to ruin the whole damn performance!

He hastily took that thought back. "What was I thinking?" he mumbled to himself, "some unknown and thus totally unpredictable and probably malicious force will likely make it come true! And with _my_ luck, I'll be the object that does its bidding! Ugh! I do _not_ need another taste of Jameth's fury."

Skipper kept walking through the Hall, making his way to the unofficial meeting ground of the 'gang', in one of the Hall's many courtyards. His last class having been on the other side of the Hall entirely, he was the last to get there. He came upon a happy scene; Looey absently braiding Tally's hair, who was sitting at the foot of a bench reading a book, Ellie and Rosa chatting comfortably while making flower wreathes, and Koby and Grant in stitches as Issie imitated one of the Masters. As Skipper drew closer, it became apparent that Issie was imitating no other than the Mastersinger, something that suited Skipper's mood quite nicely at the moment.

He plopped down on the bench next to Looey to watch the end of the impromptu performance. "SING!" Issie bellowed, making his voice deeper and puffing out his chest as he tilted back his head and raised his arms. "PROJECT!" He then proceeded to go through the warming up exercises in the voice of a terrified and stammering little girl, "Do, R-re, Me, F-fa, So, La, Ti, Do!". He then finished with a scream and a "NOOOO! Don't kill me Mastersinger! I only missed the beat by a mili-second! Just a mili-second!" Issie allowed his voice to come choked out on the last bit, as if being strangled. He fell to the ground and jumped back up almost immediately, bowing when he gained his feet.

Everyone's attention in the group was drawn to Issie's production when Skipper entered the scene, and they all erupted into ruckus laughter at its close. Rosa, too, was laughing heartily. Apparently even she was fed up with her uncle's demanding curriculum. Skipper joined in the laughing as well, although his was perhaps more cruel than the others.

He quickly reverted back to his sulking, thundercloud attitude, causing Rosa to tactfully back away. Ellie, on the other hand, was ever optimistic, and totally oblivious and uncompromising to others bad moods. She bounced up to Skipper, grabbed his shoulders, and tilted him back off the bench. She laughed hysterically when he fell on the grass, causing the others to grin and shake their heads. Skipper had to admit that the girl had a charming naivete about her, and was great at breaking the ice.

He sat up with a sigh, no longer fuming, but simply depressed. Tally raised an eyebrow over her book as Skipper plopped down into the grass. "What's the matter with you then?" She asked in a cautiously curious manner.

That innocent question opened the floodgates. "The same thing that's the matter with everyone else! The Mastersinger! Working us to the bone, keeping us extra hours and having us skip other classes, as if his is the most important!" he clenched fists and teeth as he continued, "and the Gather! Ugh! A totally pointless and unnecessary affair! A total waste of marks, which I don't even get to waste, because all mine have to go to buying a new damn outfit! Which leads us back to the Mastersinger, and how he thinks he can control every aspect of our lives! Well he's got another thing coming! I'm not wasting all my marks on some worthless outfit that I'll probably never wear again just so he can look good!" he punctuated the last four words by slamming his fist into his hand.

There was total silence for a moment, before Ellie asked incredulity, "You don't want to go to a _Gather_?", once again effectively breaking the ice and giving the others the courage to put their two sense in.

"Gather's really are quite enjoyable, Skip," Rosa attempted.

"Quite enjoyable! That doesn't even come close! It's a blast!" Koby put in helpfully.

"Great," Skipper muttered, "so the Gather is fun? So what? That doesn't solve the mark problem."

"Skip, you great bumbling oaf!" Looey drawled, "my father is the Lord Holder of Fort! I'll give you the scorched marks!"She finished her declaration by all but throwing a pouch of marks at the completely dumfounded boy.

Armed with his newly acquired pouch of marks and his own good head for haggling, Skipper made his way down to the stalls in the hopes of finding a new outfit. He quickly discovered that when it came to clothing, he was very picky. It had to fit him just right, have just the right look, and just the right color.

This proved to be a major setback time-wise. He was supposed to just get something that looked decent and get out. Not waste hours going through the racks. Looey had been kind enough to give him the marks for his new outfit, he figured he should put them to good use. At least, that's what he kept trying to convince himself. In reality, vain as he was wont to be, if he had a chance to look good, he was going to take it. Normally, he honestly didn't care. Who was he trying to impress on a daily basis? But on special occasions, you never know who you're going to run into.

After an hour or two of unsuccessfully looking through stalls, Skipper decided it was time for a break. With a cup of hot klah in his hand and a roll in the other, he went to an alley between stalls to rest in their shade. He drained the klah in a few gulps and tossed the cup into a nearby waste bin. Having been in a hurry to get something in his stomach, he had simply rushed to a spot to rest. He was putting the change from his purchase in his pouch when someone slammed into him from the main walkway.

"Hey!" Skipper exclaimed, furious at this intrusion, "what is your..." a hand was put over his mouth, effectively cutting off what was rapidly turning into a very disgruntled rant.

"Shh!" a male voice said into his ear. Whoever it was, they were trying very hard not to laugh. "Just a minute." Skipper squirmed around enough so that he could see the other boys smiling face. The blue eyed, blonde haired boy was snickering almost uncontrollably, though it didn't seem his mirth was directed at Skipper. After a moment of being stuck in this seemingly hysterical boys grasp, a whole group of young men ran past the alley, laughing, yelling, and causing all kinds of drama for the stall holders.

When they were past the other boy released Skipper, finally allowing his choked laughter to be released. Skipper, unsure of what to do, stood there uncomfortably before bending down to retrieve his scattered marks, the impact with the other young man having sent them flying. "Here," the other boy gasped out between his laughter, "sorry about that, Harper." Skipper took the marks from the unusually dressed boy. The young man was clad in some sort of leather suit, high boots, and gloves, though those were attached to his wide belt.

As he bent down to pick up a few more marks, he explained to Skipper why he had ran into him, literally. "You saw those boys?" he didn't wait for Skipper to respond, "well, they are my wing mates. They've been trying to pressure me into asking a pretty girl to the Gather tomorrow. I got tired of their pestering, so I threw a bag of flour in their faces." He burst out laughing, clapping Skipper on the back. "I didn't want you to give me away."

Skipper couldn't help but grin. "Didn't the stall holder get upset?"

The stranger rubbed the back of his neck, looking a bit ashamed. "I reckon he will be, but it was worth the marks it'll cost me! The looks on their faces!" He shook his head, the grin still plastered to his face. Skipper was glad to hear that the boy would pay the stall holder back. The young Apprentice was not particularly fond of arrogance. Extending a hand, the boy introduced himself. "I'm N'tal, from Ista Weyr."

It should have registered before, but it took the boy introducing himself for Skipper to realize that he was standing with a dragonrider. "So, you're a dragonrider?" he asked, not quite believing it. Grant might be a weyrling, but that was nothing compared to a real dragonrider.

N'tal grinned proudly. "Sure am, rider of brown Caleth. And you're a Harper?" He asked questioningly. "I saw your marks." He added as an afterthought.

"Oh! Well. Not a Master yet, still just a lowly Apprentice," Skipper said good-naturedly.

The brown rider laughed, patting him on the back. "Well, I suppose I'm not quite a full-fledged dragonrider myself. I was just Impressed little over a year ago. We're not going to be ready to fight Thread for at least one more."

"Doesn't the idea of fighting Thread frighten you?" Skipper asked. He supposed he should feel shy, or at least awkward, but the other boy easily banished those thoughts. So, seeing as how he'd probably never get much of a chance to talk to a dragonrider again, he fell back into his usual confident manner and entered conversation with N'tal.

"Come, Harper," he seemed to disregard the fact that that was not Skipper's proper title, "let me buy you something to eat, considering I ruined your first meal." They walked for a minute before N'tal answered his question, "No, fighting Thread doesn't frighten me. It was what I was born and bread for. It's what I live for, I guess. I suppose you could say I have respect for it, not fear."

Skipper agreed amiably, and spent the rest of the day conversing with his new friend. They had to dodge the group of dragonrider's once, while they were drinking a cup of klah, but otherwise the day went by smoothly. It was getting late before Skipper realized that he had completely forgotten about buying an outfit.

"I forgot to look for an outfit for my presentation tomorrow! Ugh!" He cried out in frustration. "I have a crazy Mastersinger, too. He'll probably lock me up somewhere so that I can't ruin the show by looking out of place."

"That's no problem! We'll just go grab something before the stalls close." N'tal grabbed Skipper by the hand and drug him back into the marketplace. He stopped at the first stall he saw and grabbed an outfit off the racks. "Here, this will do."

Skipper, thinking it hopeless, had his head in his hands, fearing to look up. N'tal held up a violet, long sleeved shirt, with a black vest and a pair of matching black pants. "Of _course_ you find an outfit on your first try," Skipper growled as he took it from N'tal. "Skipper eyed it critically. The colors meshed not only with each other but with Skipper himself, and the fabric pleasantly soft. "It'll do," he grunted.

The price, of course, was outrageous, something he made a point of declaring to N'tal. The dragonrider, on the other hand, simply said that the price was a statement of his good taste.

They walked back through the market in a companionable silence, clasping hands when it was time to part. "When we have more time I'll take you to meet Caleth," N'tal said with a smile.

Skipper tried to hide his eagerness as he readily agreed to the offer.

With an easy laugh, the brown rider said his farewell "See you around, Skip."

"Nice meeting you, N'tal." Skipper said, grinning as well.

As he watched the dragonrider walk away, he decided that it hadn't been a bad day, and that maybe he didn't hate Mastersinger Jameth that much after all.


	7. Chapter 7 Emotions Amuck

**So, I know it's been an eternity since I've updated, but I was really lacking in the inspiration department for this story. However, I'm back on track. This was supposed to be the Gather chapter, but it was gonna be really long if I did that, so, chapter eight WILL be the Gather. And I've got some ridiculous stuff planned for that. **

**So, give me your thoughts and opinions, tell me if you have any ideas, and, read and enjoy. **

**  
CHAPTER SEVEN**

Skipper regarded himself in front of his mirror for the umpteenth time, smoothing the wrinkles out of his clothing in an attempt to smooth away his worry.

Today was the day. _The_ day. His first Gather. Sure, he'd been all nonchalant about it yesterday, but now that the moment had arrived, he found himself to be rather antsy. He still didn't quite see the point of it, but now that he was armed with new clothing, and the very likely possibility of running into N'tal, he found himself looking forward to the day.

As a result, he was hoping not to blow it. He just couldn't help but to think that somehow he would mess things up royally. If that happened, then he could kiss the day goodbye. He'd likely be hanging from a noose on some gnarled old tree in retribution for his crime against Mastersinger Jameth.

With a sigh, he decided to stop worrying about it. Or, at least, to stop openly worrying about it. After all, he was only part of the choir. If he missed a note, it would be drowned out by the others. The Mastersinger would probably notice (he always did), but as long as the audience didn't, it wouldn't matter quite as much. Or at least that's what he hoped.

He began moving towards the door; the other boys had filed out long ago, having attended Gather's their whole lives. They weren't nearly as nervous about it as Skipper was. Issie had been reluctant to live, but finally agreed after Skipper _asked_ for a moment alone. The other boy really was quite tactless sometimes.

Closing the door behind him, he began the trek towards breakfast. They were being served that most important of meals in the Hall, and then they were off to the Gather. The Hold was close enough that a runnerbeast would make the trip easily, which was more practical than calling in the dragonriders for transportation.

His arrival in the eating hall was met with a cacophony of chatter. It didn't matter that it was quite early in the morning. Everyone was up and ready to go, and making it quite clear by their volume.

Passing a hand over his face in agitation, Skipper began making his way towards his usual table. The apprehension that had been plaguing him all morning simply would not be dismissed. It was rather disheartening.

Sitting with his friends was enough to dispel it, however. Their attitude was rather infectious this morning. They were normally not a group of early risers, except for Grant and Issie, but those two were just naturally odd.

"Hey boy! It's about time you got down here, we were wondering if you got lost or something," Grant said, clapping him on the back with a grin. Skipper mumbled something incomprehensible about being chipper this early, and slid in next to Grant and Tally.

The knot in his stomach made eating very undesirable, but he was left little choice in the matter. Grant immediately began piling food onto his plate, chatting the whole time about what awaited them at the Gather. Skipper quit listening after the second hotcake was placed on his plate.

Everyone else listened, however, and the whole group went through another bout of the joys of a Gather. Skipper half listened while methodically eating his food. He figured that he ought to eat as much as he could handle; it would be just his luck to get weak kneed, or light headed in the middle of the performance. Or have his stomach start rumbling at the most inopportune moment.

He finished right when everyone began filing out of the Hall, each grade level directed a different way, and by a different Master. The third years were being directed by Master Cheryl, a short, plump woman with snow white hair and an overly exuberant attitude. "Come one and all!" she shouted, "my darling third years, this way!" The woman really had a voice on her, despite being at least sixty.

Skipper, Issie, Looey, and Ellie all broke off together to head to the third year's prescribed destination, waving goodbye to the other four as they did so. Skipper wasn't exactly sure how this was going to work. Were all years going to leave together, and just stay with their year mates? Or could you mingle once you were on the road?

It wasn't long before he found out. He did, in fact, need to stay with his year mates until he checked in with Master Cheryl and collected his runnerbeast. After that, he was allowed to ride with whomever he wished, as long as he checked in again with his group Master when he arrived.

Looey made sure to stress that point. If a student didn't check in, then they would be hunted down by one of the Master's, and forced to stay with said Master for the duration of the Gather.

Skipper was glad to see that it was a relatively cool day. He was not up for sweating in the miserable sun for an hour. The ride to the Hold was relatively uneventful. Naturally, he, Looey, Issie, and Ellie met up with the other four in order to make the ride as enjoyable as possible. It was, actually, quite pleasant.

The boys were full of endless jokes (some of which were not meant for girls ears, yet were said anyway), and the girls were full of witty taunts. On a day like today, the girls had free reign with their tongues; they knew the boys wouldn't be getting upset with them.

Rosa displayed the greatest capacity for these jests (she'd grown up with four brothers) and, for this ride, Grant seemed to be the butt of them.

"I swear," Grant was saying, "that those hotdogs are the greatest things the Gather has ever produced. You're gonna love 'em, Skip." Grant, whose mind was always on food, had been outraged to discover that Skipper had never heard of a hotdog.

Skipper was rather dubious about trying the treat, however. He still had the leftover marks Looey had given him (she'd insisted he keep the considerable change), but he was feeling reluctant about spending them. These hotdogs were apparently five marks, when a cup of klah was only one!

He was saved from remarking by Rosa's interjection into the conversation.

"I bet you're a real big fan of long, meaty rods, aren't ya, Grant?" she said with a sly grin, while the other three girls snickered behind her.

Grant seemed unable to grasp what she was insinuating for a moment. When he did, he laughed heartily. "Oh, I don't know about that Rosa, they have to be hard, too."

After that, everyone burst out laughing, leaving Skipper slightly uncomfortable. He supposed he should be laughing too, but...he didn't...get it. Was she implying that Grant liked boys? Was that even possible? He shook his head and dismissed it. It didn't matter.

"Oh, look, Rosa, there goes your charming Uncle," Tally said sarcastically. Tally really was a nice girl, but when she didn't like one of the teaching Master's, everyone knew.

She had plenty of nicknames for those Master's she despised; Mimi the Witch, for the red-haired Mastercomposer with a rather eccentric style, The Bimbo, for the young, clueless woman that just began teaching, and, among others, Bald-Leans-Over-My-Shoulder-Man, for the absentminded and aging Master in charge of making instruments. Her nicknames served for quite entertaining conversations.

Skipper glanced towards the object of her scrutiny, noticing with a feeling of dread that the Mastersinger had a thunderous scowl on his face. _What a great way to start the day_, Skipper thought dryly, _now he'll really be ready to notice any and all mistakes. _As if the man had heard Skipper's thoughts, he began gravitating towards their group.

"Uncle!" Rosa said, grinning as she did so, "it's a wonderful day, wouldn't you say?" she giggled at her own rhyme. He only rolled his eyes.

"You're all looking sharp," he said approvingly. Apparently Rosa's salutation turned an insult into a compliment. Her uncle really did love her.

"And you're looking absolutely wonderful!" she said, still grinning in a half mocking, half sincere way. "I haven't seen you this dressed up in ages."

"Yes, well, it's only for these useless Gatherings that I bother," he said, brushing his shoulder off as he did so. "These clothes are so distasteful." He was dressed in a tan blouse, tight at the wrists and tight at the collar, with a green vest, embroidered in gold, over it, supposedly to bring out the green in his hazel eyes, and a pair of deeper brown pants to match, with boots that went up to the knee. The Mastersinger looked absolutely dignified and utterly uncomfortable.

Rosa sighed. "It really is a shame. You have such a wonderful sense of style, and yet lack the will to apply it."He scowled at her good naturedly before turning his attention elsewhere.

"I'm pleased to see that you all made an effort to look your best. I would have been severely disappointed had you done otherwise,"he was slowly appraising them all with a much more intent scrutiny than he'd applied earlier.

Skipper began to fidget nervously. He thought that he looked rather spiffy, but this man was unpredictable. Unsurprisingly, he came to view Skipper last. The man really did have it out for him.

"Apprentice Skipper, I must say that you clean up rather nicely. You're outfit has to be the most impressive of all," he said with satisfaction, causing Skipper to blush with pleasure at the compliment. It was nice to hear something kind out of the Mastersinger every now and then!

"Thank you, sir," he said, keeping his outward seeming of confidence intact.

Apparently he said something wrong, however, for the Mastersinger was suddenly a little less amiable. "Tuck in that shirt," he said, before riding off while shaking his head. Bewildered, Skipper gave Rosa a look. She merely shrugged.

* * *

Jameth continued to ride towards the front of the crowd, scowling as he did so. _That boy_, he thought scathingly, _is the most arrogant, pompous little brat that I've ever seen!_ He was going to harbor a dislike for his young student for the duration of his stay in the Hall. Not only did Apprentice Skipper ruin his composition, but he also had to act nonchalant about it, and everything else! 

Every time Jameth made an attempt to tender a compliment to the boy, he always acted like it was expected, even deserved. _It's not like I give compliment's lightly_, the Mastersinger thought in annoyance, _and yet he always acts like it's no big deal._

He clenched his hands into fists to keep them from running through his hair. He had a habit of raking his fingers through his locks when he was agitated. It was the reason why his braid always came slightly loose, causing wisps of hair to frame his face. Today was not the day for untidiness, however, so he would have to make do with fist clenching.

_Really, I don't even know why I let the child get to me, _Jameth thought, _he'll be gone in three years, and then I won't have to deal with him hardly at all if I so choose. _But he couldn't help to think that here he had found someone that might come to understand the beauty of song. Skipper's enthusiasm for using those pipes of his could easily grow into the passion that Jameth himself harbored. And Jameth desired that kind of kindred understanding.

_Perhaps if I begin to treat him more like an adult_, _rather than some uneducated child I won't have this problem. Maybe if I actually have a conversation with him, I could learn to deal with his arrogance, _he thought wryly. Jameth began to think it was time to begin those private tutoring lessons. One event after another had prevented it, but now it seemed like more of a priority. The boy had a natural talent, and Jameth's personal feelings shouldn't be hindering it.

Thankfully, thoughts of Apprentice Skipper could be put aside. They'd reached the Hold at last. _Time for another headache_, Jameth thought dejectedly, as he went to collect the fourth years.


	8. Chapter 8 A Gathered Visit

**Look, guys, I actually met my deadline! I know, you must be so proud. Let's just hope I can keep up with it. **

**So, I really don't know what the hell I'm doing with this story sometimes, but tell me what YOU think, and then maybe I can figure it out. Like, after you read this, tell me what you think I should do with poor Skipper...****  
**

**  
CHAPTER EIGHT**

Skipper had to admit that he was impressed with the Gather, even if he wouldn't come out and say it to anyone else. Somebody, he assumed the servants of the Hold, had set up tents and pavilions in the Hold's main courtyard. Every tent was occupied by stall holders selling a myriad of goods, and each pavilion had been commandeered by one powerful group or another.

His fingers were just itching to get spending. Usually he wasn't one to throw away money, but he figured he could get some good buys here. However, first things first, and that meant reporting to Master Cheryl. Skipper was not particularly desirous to be saddled to one of the Master's for the duration of the Gather.

After he'd checked in and promised to have a "blast", he met up with the group. Skipper quickly discovered that there was a conflict of interest, however. The girls, naturally, were interested in perusing the tents that contained jewelry, clothes, and the like, whereas the boys were more concerned with the various sporting implements that could be found only at Gather's.

It was quickly decided that they needed to split up, promising to meet at the pavilion that was painted gaudily in red, yellow, orange, and blue stripes, for lunch.

Skipper didn't particularly care for sporting goods, either, but he lacked the will to go wander off on his own. So, he trailed along behind the bickering boys, eating up the stalls with his eyes. There was so much to see!

He found that he was continuously lagging behind, and finally gave up on catching up. So what if he was by himself? He'd find them at lunch.

His eye had been particularly drawn to a blue tent with white stars speckled across it. When he arrived, he was not disappointed with its wares. The man in the tent was selling beautifully crafted coin purses, pouches, belts, and the like.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Skipper was startled to hear a voice claim right in his ear. He turned to meet the grinning face of N'tal.

"Oh," he stammered, "ah, yes, they are. Kind of expensive, though." He'd been dubious as to the price of the woven goods. It wasn't his craft, so he couldn't honestly judge, but it seemed just this side of expensive.

N'tal laughed good-naturedly. "I would have to agree with you. The man that runs this booth is a miserly bastard, but his goods are worth the price he demands." He began rummaging through the bins with Skipper, selecting coin purses in particular.

"My old coin purse got, ah, lost," he said over his shoulder, grimacing as he did so.

"By 'lost' he means 'paid' to the winner of our last game of cards. He'd run out of marks, so he threw in the damn purse." Another boy had come and joined them in the stall. He was, presumably, another dragon rider. Judging by the colors he was wearing, and his apparent age, he was likely a wing member of N'tal's.

"Well, maybe if you would have cut me some damn slack, I wouldn't have had to throw the thing in," N'tal growled with a scowl. It only caused the gangly boy to laugh.

"Our N'tal is notorious for his card playing 'skills'...he loses every time," that earned the boy a punch from the dragonrider. "I honestly don't know why he doesn't just give up," he choked out through his laughter.

Still scowling, N'tal turned to continue looking through the bins, leaving Skipper to introduce himself. "My name's Skipper," he said, adding his most charming smile to go with it. This was more his element. Getting to know new people. "I'd have to say that I'm not surprised N'tal loses at cards so often; his face is about as transparent as glass," he commented, grinning as he did so.

That earned him a generous laugh from the other boy, who held out his hand and introduced himself as T'lan, agreeing whole heartedly with Skipper's assessment of N'tal."He can't keep a straight face for nothing. I guess it's a good thing he's so honest. Otherwise he sure as hell would be getting regular beatings from the weyr leaders." They both had a good laugh over that as N'tal continued to ignore them.

"Well, I was just dropping in to say hi, I've got to go meet Layla," and with that he was off, moonstruck smile plastered to his face and everything.

Skipper gravitated towards N'tal, hoping that he wasn't truly angry. He was relieved to see that the other boy was grinning. "I really am awful at cards, but T'lan is ruthless, so it's hardly fair."

"I'll play you in cards sometime," Skipper offered, "I'm absolutely terrible, I'm sure you'd be able to beat me."

N'tal laughed delightedly, "Yes, and what an accomplishment that'd be! I sure could go bragging to my wing mates about it!" They both grinned and selected their final purchases.

"Lemme see what you've got," N'tal asked, holding out his hand as he did so. Skipper placed his coin purse in N'tal's hand, watching as the blonde boy scrutinized it. "Not bad," he said approvingly. He then turned towards the back end of the booth. "Dennis, you old quack! I know you're right there watching! Now get out here and take care of your customers."

Sure enough, a shriveled old man emerged from the cloth wall at the back of the tent, grumbling as he did so. "Dunno who you think you are, demanding I come at your beck and call," he said with a growl.

N'tal grinned good naturedly, "I believe I would be your most adoring grandson, and admirably loyal customer. Now hurry up, I've got places to go, people to see."

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, though Skipper could see he was smiling as well. "This it, then?" N'tal nodded and handed over the two coin purses before Skipper could say anything. "Good choices," the man said absently. "Who's your friend?"

"Oh, excuse my manners," N'tal said, blushing slightly, "this is Harper Skipper, we've only just met."

"Ah," Dennis murmured, looking at Skipper as he did so, before dismissing him with a grunt and handing N'tal the goods. "Tell your parents I said hello, and that they'd better get their asses up here to see me."

N'tal agreed, laughing as he did so. "See you for lunch Grandpa."

N'tal handed Skipper his coin purse once they were out of the tent, ignoring Skipper's protests about having bought it. "By the egg, man, I'm a dragonrider! What do I need the marks for? Take the gift and be glad of it." What else could Skipper do but comply?

Everyone had been sitting under the eccentrically painted pavilion for quite a few minutes now, and there was still no sign of Skipper. Finally giving in to the inevitable, Rosa rolled her eyes and stood up. "I guess I'll go and find him."

She hadn't even made it out of the pavilion before Ellie trotted up beside her. "Ugh, my boob itches," the blonde grumbled, taking advantage of the fact that they were no longer around the boys, and indulging herself with a good scratch.

Rosa laughed, hooking arms with Ellie as they made their way through the stalls and tents. "Honestly, it's only Skip that would inconvenience us like this," Rosa growled.

"Ugh, I know, and it's so hot! Where is he?" Ellie moaned, craning her neck around as she did so.

They'd been looking for about 15 minutes when she spotted him. "There he is," Rosa said, pointing as she did so. The object of their annoyance was sitting under a shady tree playing cards with someone who appeared to be a dragonrider.

"Whoa," Ellie breathed out, "that guy is totally gorgeous!" Rosa couldn't disagree. Blonde hair, charming smile, perfectly sculpted body, and a dragonrider to boot. Basically every girl's dream.

Too bad the only thing he had eyes for was Skipper. His laugh was constant, and richly delicious. The blonde was using every excuse he had to brush his hands against Skipper's, and he seemed to have a permanent blush painted on his cheeks. _That was Skipper for you_, Rosa thought indulgently, _charming the hell out of anything he came into contact with._

"D'you see what I see?" Rosa questioned Ellie.

"Uh, perfection? Kind of hard to miss."

"No," Rosa sighed, apparently Ellie was just as oblivious as Skipper appeared to be, "doesn't that dragonrider seem a little over-friendly?"

"What? _Oh_," Ellie exclaimed, giggling as she did so.

"Exactly," Rosa agreed. It didn't really matter to her, though, and with a shrug she beckoned Ellie to follow her over.

She came up behind Skipper, wrapping her arms around him as she did so. "Skip, did you forget about something?" she purred into his ear, watching the other boy out of the corner of her eye as she did so.

"Oh! Yeah, sorry Rosa," Skipper said, neither acknowledging her embrace or pushing her away, something that seemed to reassure the other boy. "N'tal, this is - what're you, a monkey? Get off me - Rosa, a fellow Harper." Rosa disentangled herself, grinning hugely at N'tal as she did so.

He didn't seem to be the jealous type, at least. Rosa reckoned in her head that Skipper must be well past his fourteenth birthday by now, having entered the Hall towards the end of his thirteenth. This boy seemed about sixteen...but she still couldn't help but to think that was just a bit too old.

She didn't want her darling Skipper getting his ass charmed off and then taken advantage of. Even if he was totally unaware of what was going on. Rosa knew that N'tal knew that she knew, and was planning on keeping it that way.

N'tal stood up, holding his hand our first to Rosa, and then to Ellie, who introduced herself. He was smiling in a well-mannered, polite kind of way, but it was clear that he was uncomfortable. Rosa hadn't exactly made it easy for him.

Taking pity on the other boy, Rosa asked him to join them for lunch. She was just her normal, good-natured self about it. He really didn't seem all that threatening.

He sighed, as if truly regretting that he was about to decline. "I can't, I've got to go meet my grandpa and my parents for lunch." He grinned, placing the cards back in their box as he did so. "I can't upset the folks, they supply the marks," he said, patting his coin purse as he did so.

Skipper laughed, as if there was some private joke involved. "Let your grandpa know that the coin purse is wonderful, and I expect I'll be back next Gather." Rosa felt her eyebrows go up. So, he'd already been introduced to family members? How long had Skipper known this boy?

"Sure thing, Skip. I'll catch up with you later, alright?" He was smiling, and looked perfectly at ease and laid back, but Rosa knew the question was causing him some anxiety.

"Sure," Skipper said, grinning as well, "how about you meet us for dinner? We have to start getting ready for the performance after lunch, so I won't be able to see you until then," he said, resting his hand on N'tal's shoulder that totally belied his clueless-ness. Rosa felt an eyebrow go up. Maybe Skipper really did know what was going on...or maybe he really was that naive. With a blush, N'tal agreed.

They said their goodbyes, promising again to meet for dinner under the same tent as Skipper and his friends were meeting for lunch, and then each headed off to eat.

"So, you like N'tal, huh?" Rosa said casually, while they headed off towards 'their' tent.

"Oh, sure, he's a great guy. He even said he'd let me ride his dragon sometime." Rosa told herself that she was _not_ going to laugh at that, until Ellie burst out laughing on the other side.

"What?" Skipper said, totally bewildered.

"Oh, nothing, darling," Rosa gasped out, "lets just go eat."


	9. Chapter 9 What's this? HmmFood

**Authors Note: Hmm, I must say, I was rather glad to hear some new reviews, and opinions! So, thanks to Miss Interpreted (hope to hear some opinions again!), Bluefirespirit, and Amere Mortal. I would love to hear some opinions/criticisms from you two, but just reading is fine with me! And Chaos! Thank you for your reviews! I hope to hear from you again!!!**

**And, of course, to my steadfast supporters, ginalee and aldoraspritelette! I can't wait to hear from you two!**

**And, Wolfmusic, you know I love you. I think you'll particularly appreciate this one. hehe.**

**I guess that's it. Enjoy. Let me know what you think. Seriously, any ideas. It's all good.  
**

**CHAPTER NINE**

Their performance went spectactularly. Daryn had been the featured soloist, handpicked by Mastersinger Jameth. His performance caused Skipper to grudgingly admit that he had a great deal of skill. That young man had by far the most adept voice in the assembly.

Skipper himself had sung his heart out. Once he got over the initial, unnoticed, jitters, he threw himself into his song, not missing a single note, as he had feared he would.

The song that Skipper had allegedly 'sabotaged' turned out to be a tremendous hit. The fact that Skipper had only sung the first few verses, and that only members of the Hall had heard it in the first place, meant that it was still new to many ears. Even if everyone did know the story of its first debut.

Skipper's class only had three songs to sing, Mastersinger Jameth's own not one of them. Daryn sang Jameth's song, _Night Flight_, doing it proper justice.

Skipper himself was beginning to get bummed out about the fact that he hadn't had any more advances on the Mastersinger's part to begin private training. He wanted the glory of soloist singing, but, after the initial suggestion, the issue had been dropped. Of course, it was largely due to Skipper's fall from grace. He was still peeved, though, because he felt he was making a considerable amount of progress with his teacher. Obviously the Mastersinger didn't feel the same way.

Skipper and company were waiting anxiously in the Hall's private pavilion, while the Mastersinger concluded the performance with a small, and gracious, speech. He took his bow to thunderous applause and then strode confidently off the stage, to the designated area behind it.

The man was flushed and uncharacteristically grinning, clapping students on the back as he passed them. "Brilliant!" he kept declaring. "Simply brilliant!" After a small speech to thank his students for their dedication and good behavior, he dismissed them for some 'well-earned dinner'.

Skipper was surprised to be stopped by the Mastersinger's hand on his arm, seeing as how he'd already congratulated those students he wished to take aside. Skipper felt his face flush, expecting even more elaborate praise than the others had gotten, and was sorely disappointed when that wasn't the case.

"Apprentice Skipper," Jameth began in his habitual formality, "now that you've decided to cease plaguing me with your infractions, I would like to begin that private training we spoke of when you first arrived." Though his voice was stern, there was still a lingering good humor in his eyes.

It took a moment for Skipper to reply after the initial sting of his teacher's words, but he was proud to say that he formulated a coherent answer: "I would be very pleased to begin, Mastersinger, and have been eagerly anticipating this invitation," he carefully chose to use the term 'anticipating', rather than anything else, in order to allow the Mastersinger to believe that he never had any doubt the invitation would be tendered.

Jameth seemed unperturbed by Skipper's careful wording, although he did raise his chin in what appeared to be acknowledgment. "Good, then I expect to see you in my office when classes resume. I will make allowance for your schedule and plan to see you after dinner; I hope you're prepared to make the necessary sacrifices for private studying," he seemed skeptical, but allowed Skipper the benefit of the doubt.

"I can assure you that I am more than ready, and have been prepared for that eventuality for quite some time," he smirked before continuing, "after all, it's not like I have much of a life at the Hall, anyway. What's one more set of lessons?"

Jameth stared at him for a moment, unsure of what to think of this pert answer, before allowing a grin to crack his stern features. Why must he always look to the bad in Skipper before the good? He would stop reading so much into what the boy said. Skipper wasn't trying to insult him somehow, he was merely speaking his mind.

He laughed, genuinely, after a moment, and clapped Skipper on the back. "You're made of stern stuff, my young protege, and I look forward to seeing how much you can take." With another chuckle, he left the pavilion, accompanied by a perverse sense of satisfaction at getting the last word. He might be more willing to accept Skipper's nature, but he was by no means ready to surrender this unspoken conflict between them.

Skipper was left stranded, a bit taken aback by his teacher's accepting attitude. He'd expected to be sparring words with the Mastersinger for at least another ten minutes. Skipper was left with a more optimistic attitude towards the private tutoring, and headed towards his crowds' pavilion with a smile on his face; at last, progress was to be made!

* * *

When he got there, he was glad to see that N'tal had already arrived. He was a bit irritated to see that Rosa was steadfastly ignoring him, even though she was seated right next to the dragonrider. Ellie and Looey were doing a fine job of keeping him entertained, though, despite Rosa's rude behavior.

Skipper walked over, grin still firmly plastered to his face, and took a seat next to N'tal. "How's the food?" he asked, before digging in himself. He didn't really care how it was; he was starving and was going to stuff his face regardless of taste.

"Not bad, although it is getting cold pretty fast," N'tal answered.

"Yeah, it took you awhile to get over here, Skip -" Looey began, before being interrupted by Ellie.

"Yeah! What took so long with the Mastersinger?" Ellie asked in her slightly nasal voice.

"Yeeeeah, we all know how he likes to be alone with boys," Looey said with a giggle, accompanied by Ellie's snorts.

Skipper frowned, about to set them straight, when Rosa decided to interject herself into the conversation. "Looey!"Rosa reprimanded, her voice rather shrill. "You know that's not true! I hate it when you guy's say that! You should know better!"

"I didn't mean anything by it, Rosa, sheesh," Looey said, rolling her eyes as she did so. With a glare, she turned to Ellie, likely to bad mouth Rosa for the rest of the meal. Rosa clenched her teeth, but didn't say anything further, seeing as how it would accomplish nothing. Having fickle friends meant having fickle fights.

"Umm...anyway," Skipper began, "for anyone who cares, Mastersinger Jameth has finally decided to start private training for my voice."

"Really?" Tally asked - the ever-attentive one...when she wasn't reading, that is. "It's about time! What's it been? Nearly half a turn since you've arrived? I was beginning to worry that you were going have a coniption."

Skipper frowned in confusion, "Coniption?" he asked curiously.

"You know, like a fit, a spazz attack or something," Tally elaborated, with a wave of her hand. She laughed at Skipper's continued look of puzzlement.

"Well, yeah, I _was_ about ready to have a 'coniption'," he agreed with a grin, "I thought the man would never get over hating me!"

"He never hated you, Skipper," Rosa said disapprovingly, "he was only annoyed by your continued misdemeanors."

"Well, whatever you say, the Mastersinger has got a grudge out against me, and it's not going away," Skipper said with a sigh.

"Oh, Skip, he's not that bad! You'll see. You can't really avoid getting to know him once these lessons begin."

"Don't get your hopes up," he mumbled, before turning back to his food, effectively ending the conversation.

Grant chose that moment to saunter down to their end of the table, squeezing in between Rosa and N'tal - claiming his 'territory'. "So, you're N'tal?" he began civilly, "I'm Grant." He held out his hand, clasping it firmly with N'tal.

"I thought you would be him; Skipper's talked about you," the dragonrider said amiably.

"Did he?" Grant raised his eyebrows at his young friend before turning back to their guest, "I suppose I am worth talking about," he grinned, inviting N'tal to join in.

"Well, to Skipper you are," he agreed, "so, I hear you're from Benden weyr?"

"Ah, yes, so my fame as the resident weyrling grows," he said with a laugh, before striking up conversation with N'tal on the Pern Weyr leaders' well-being.

They were just getting into a well-animated conversation when Ellie let out a screech directed at Koby. "By the Egg! Koby! If you do that again, I'm going to throw you into the next round of Thread!"

One of the things Skipper had realized about Koby was that he didn't know when to stop - especially when it came to Ellie. Those two bickered like brother and sister - mercilessly, and without any greater motivation than boredom. Koby, deliberately, and with a huge grin, once again poked the blonde in her side.

That's when, as they say, the dragon shit hit the fan. "THAT'S IT, KOBY!" The enraged teen roared, before scooping up a handful of mashed potatoes and shoving them in his face.

There was complete silence while everyone waited for Koby's reaction. It took a minute for Ellie's retaliation to sink in. When it did, Koby's eyes grew uncharacteristically wide, and with a look of lingering indignation, he flung a bowl of soup at her.

It was clear that he hadn't really thought his maneuver through,when half the liquid nailed Looey as well. "UGGH!!!" She shrieked, before shoving herself up and away from the table"This was a brand-new outfit!" With a look of fury that only a woman could muster, she picked up the pitcher of_ klah_, and flung it at Koby as he ran around the table. Not only did she hit him, but everyone seated on the other side; Skipper, N'tal, Rosa, Grant, and Tally.

Complete chaos ensued after that attack, to a chorus of curses and laughter.

N'tal smashed some mashed carrots into Skipper's face, before slipping and falling in a puddle of klah. Before Skipper could help him up, Rosa was stooping over him to dump stew down his shirt. Laughing, Skipper turned away to fling some creamed vegetables at Issie, only to miss him as he ducked. Skipper was dismayed to see that the food missile hit the back of Daryn's head instead.

With a yelp, and hoping to avoid conflict, he dove under their table. He didn't think Daryn saw him, but he couldn't be sure. Honestly, he didn't know why the boy was just sitting there when there was a massive food fight raging right next to his table . . . but, then again, Skipper had suspected that he lacked brains.

He was surprised to find Tally under the table, as well. He scooted over to her, unable to dispel his grin as he heard Issie declare every man for himself, and then begin war cries.

"You taking a breather, too?" He asked her between gasps of laughter.

"You kidding me?" The bespectacled girl asked with a raised eyebrow, "you think I'm taking any part in that insanity?" She laughed with an indulgent snort.

"But, Tally, this is war," Skipper said with a maniacal grin, before smashing a pastry into her face and scrambling out from under the table.

"Skip, you little . . . !!!" Was all Skipper heard from his friend before smashing, literally, into the Mastersinger.

"Oof!" he exclaimed, before looking up and realizing whom he'd rammed into. "Urg," he said in disbelief, "why does this keep happening to _me_?"

Mastersinger Jameth merely raised an eyebrow at him as he flicked off the food that was on his clothes, due to the impact with his student.


End file.
